


Underneath the Water

by starlight_starbright



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Deserves A Medal, Cute boyfriends are cute, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Homecoming, Hurt!Steve, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Late Night Phone Calls, M/M, Missions, Nightmares, PTSD, Sam Is a Good Friend, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Sam Wilson, all the feels, bucky being adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_starbright/pseuds/starlight_starbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve an Bucky are on separate missions when Steve has a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for an anon on tumblr: Steve and Bucky are separated and Steve has a terrible nightmare.
> 
> Title from the song Barton Hollow by the Civil Wars.
> 
> Miles and miles in my bare feet  
> Still can't lay me down to sleep  
> If I die before I wake  
> I know the Lord my soul won't take

_He’s running, but he can't seem to get anywhere. His feet hit the ground with a loud_ smack _over and over again, but it’s as if the world is running right along side him and not allowing him to leave the clutches of death. Everyone is dying. So much pain, so much blood. Gunfire, explosions, screams. It’s the never-ending cycle of war and Steve can't see Bucky. Can’t see the rest of his unit. HYDRA is closing in and he can't find Bucky and he_ has _to find Bucky._

The dream changes.

 _They’re on the train. Bucky is reaching for his hand—so close. If Steve could just reach a little farther, if he could lean down just a little bit more, he could grab Bucky’s hand and pull him into the safety of his arms. Bucky’s eyes. Are. Terrified._ Don’t let me fall _, they beg._ Don’t let me go _. Steve’s muscles are screaming, trying to reach his best friend. He can't. Bucky falls. And falls. And falls._  

The dream changes.

 _Bucky is standing in front of him—whole, alive. But he isn’t happy. In fact, he looks pretty fucking pissed off. He’s throwing accusations at Steve._ I fuckin' died because of you, _he says, voice low the way it gets when Bucky’s really angry, which is rarely ever directed at Steve. Eyes hard the way they get when someone does something unforgiveable._ You could have reached farther. You're a goddamn super soldier. _Steve is crying. He tried. So hard. And he’s been beating himself up about it for seventy years. Even in the ice, he had nightmares. His brain didn’t just turn off because his body was frozen. People think that Bucky’s the only one with PTSD, but Steve suffers from it, too. Bucky is still talking, still ranting, still looking murderous._

 _And Steve can't blame him. But then Bucky voices the one thing Steve hasn’t allowed himself to think:_ it should have been you _, he spits out, right up in Steve’s face._ It should have been you because I've done so fuckin' much for you. I've protected you and kept you warm during the winter and worked my ass off for your medicine when you were sick and I've loved you . . . it should have been you. _Steve wants to die. He wants to find a nice hole and seal himself in and die cold and alone like he deserves._

 _When he looks up from the floor, Bucky has a knife._ Just kill me, _Steve begs._ I can't take this, _he says._ You’re right _, he relents._ It should have been me.

Steve wakes up just as the knife finds its place. He’s tearstained and sweaty and heartbroken and panting. He can't breathe. He scrambles for his phone in the dark room, needing to hear Bucky’s voice tell him he loves him. That he doesn’t hate him. Bucky answers on the first ring.

“Steve, you know you're not supposed to be callin',” he says immediately. It just makes Steve feel worse. He’s hyperventilating and crying and he can't speak. “Steve?” Bucky asks, concerned. “I didn’t mean I don’t wanna hear your voice,” Bucky reassures him. “I do. But if you wanted to talk, you're doing a pretty bad job.” Bucky’s teasing. He always teases. It’s one of the things Steve loves about him. But Bucky doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know how panicked Steve is. “Stevie? You there?” Bucky’s worried—Steve can hear it. 

“Buck,” he chokes out—can't get out more than that.

“Steve? Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?” Steve takes deep gulping breaths, trying to control himself enough to speak. He's Captain fucking America, he needs to get his shit together. “Did you have a nightmare?” Steve makes a noise that Bucky obviously takes as a _yes_. “I love you, Steve. No nightmare is ever gonna change that.” Steve whimpers, rubbing at his eyes. “I love you so fuckin' much,” Bucky continues, in full out reassurance mode. Steve can just picture him—sitting in his bed, bent at the waist, elbows on his knees, hair falling in his face, and clutching the phone to his ear. His brow is probably furrowed with worry, eyes focused on nowhere in particular. “Nothing that happened to me was your fault, baby. You have to know that.” Steve coughs, dislodging the lump in his throat.

“You said . . .” Steve can't finish, can't say the words out loud.

“Whatever I said, Steve, that wasn’t me. Not real me, anyway. It wasn’t true.” Steve coughs again, tears turning into hiccups and small racking shudders.

“You said it should have been me,” he blurts, and then clasps his hand over his mouth. Bucky didn’t need to know that. That should have gone in the vault—the vault Steve keeps all his guilty thoughts in as to not upset his lover. He can picture Bucky now—dumbstruck, mouth open in shock.

“Steve . . .” he starts, words trailing off into the night. “What else?”

“Bucky . . .” The words would hurt like a knife, but he couldn’t lie to him. He relays the dream conversation slowly, through the tears. Bucky listens, making small, pained sounds every now and then, but otherwise he’s silent. Even after Steve’s finished, Bucky doesn’t speak. Steve can hear the ragged breaths being sucked in and expelled from cigarette smoke abused lungs. “I’m sorry,” he tries, voice quivering.

“Fuck that,” Bucky growls. Steve’s heart breaks into a million tiny pieces that blow away like ash in the wind. “No. Not you—not that you told me. Just . . . you know I don’t think any of those things, right? Never.” Steve gulps in the cold air of the dark room and presses his shaking hands together. “I swear to God, Steve. None of it’s true.” Steve nods even though Bucky can't see him.

“Okay,” he croaks, voice cracking. 

“I love you,” Bucky tells him again gently. “I love you so much and we got a second chance, Steve. We got a second chance and I really don’t care how. I don’t care about what happened to me or how we got here, only that I get to be with you again. Got it?” Steve smiles despite himself, overwhelmed with love for this man.

“Got it, Buck.” He can almost see Bucky’s smile. 

“We’re goin' home tomorrow morning—you think you . . . ?” Steve swallows and sighs.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll call Fury,” Sam says from behind Steve. He jumps, not having expected Sam to be up. “I didn’t mean to listen in, I swear,” Sam assures him. “I just did, and I get it, man. I’ll call Fury and tell him that you’re compromised. Natasha and I got the rest of this one.” Steve almost falls to the floor in appreciation.

“Are you sure?” He has to ask. He’s Captain America. Sam smiles gently and pats him on the shoulder.

“I already radioed Clint. He’s on the way with the jet—he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Go pack your shit.” Steve smiles gratefully and wedges his phone between his cheek and his ear so that he can gather his things.

“Sam’s a good guy,” Bucky murmurs.

“Yeah, he is,” Steve whispers back. 

“Get packed, Steve. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Steve sighs sadly, not wanting to part with that low, smoky voice.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Stevie?” 

“I love you.” Bucky laughs and Steve’s heart is slowly put back together by that one sound.

“I love you too, punk. 

“Jerk.” Steve’s smiling even though he still physically hurts from his nightmare. Bucky loves him. He’s going to see Bucky in a matter of hours.

“See you soon, baby.” Bucky hangs up before Steve can reply, and Steve tosses his phone on the bed so he can finish stuffing clothes in his duffle. He has about five minutes to get out to the landing strip, so he throws his bag over his shoulder and makes his way out, thanking Sam again. 

He’s going home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The homecoming scene by popular request on tumblr.

The ride home is quiet. Clint doesn’t ask questions—never has. He’s always been a quiet supportive force for Steve. He never pushes, never nags—he’s exactly what Steve needs right now. Not Natasha insisting on answers, not Tony’s snark, and not Bruce’s science . . . just peace and quiet with knowledge that he can talk if he needs to. He tells Clink _thank you_ when he gets off the jet at Avengers tower. Clint offers to get some of Thor’s Asgardian alcohol and come over, but Steve needs to be alone. Needs to shower and get himself together because Bucky doesn’t deserve to see him like this. He already cut his mission short, he doesn’t need to fuck up the homecoming, too.

When Steve gets up to the floor he shares with Bucky, he drops his bag in the doorway and makes a beeline for the bathroom where he promptly heaves up everything in his stomach. He had felt better after the conversation with Bucky, but now doubt is sneaking into his head again. It seems too easy for Bucky to just brush off what happened. _I don’t care_ , he has said. But Steve can't quite believe that. _I don’t care about what happened to me or how we got here, only that I get to be with you again._ The problem is that _Steve_ cares. Steve cares about how much it took to get here. How much pain he caused Bucky. And no matter what Bucky says, _Steve_ did this to him. Maybe not directly, but Bucky had been given the opportunity to go home. And Steve had let him stay. Had _wanted_ him to stay. And then he fell, and Steve can’t take the guilt. Not anymore. Not after so long.

That’s how he is when Bucky gets home—on the bathroom floor, tearstained and curled in on himself. He tries to sit up and smile at his lover, but he can't manage it. Seeing Bucky in front of him—heartbreakingly beautiful and whole and live and _here_ —what’s left of his heart can't take it.

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky murmurs, sitting on the tile next to him and pulling him into his lap. “I’m right here. Don’t let that brilliant brain of yours play tricks on you, got it?” Bucky kisses his hair, his ears, his cheeks. “Shh, Stevie. You’re okay. We’re okay. I love you.” Steve presses his face into the place between Bucky’s metal arm and his neck. “That’s it, let it go, baby.”

Steve isn’t sure just how long they sit like that, but it has to be a long time because Steve is stiff when he allows Bucky to drag him into the shower. Bucky washes his back, his hair, gets on his knees to wash Steve’s legs—tender and gentle and ignoring the sexual tension. He’s kind. Bucky’s always kind. He kisses Steve’s hipbone, the bruise over Steve’s ribcage, the cut on Steve’s chest. It’s a subtle worship—a reassurance that Bucky loves him, that Bucky’s here and that he cares about Steve.

It’s working. Steve can feel the warmth unfreezing his heart, freeing him slowly. Bucky can tell, so he peppers Steve’s face with kisses before brushing their lips together. _I love you_ , the hands on his hips say. _You’re important to me,_ Bucky’s eyes say. _There’s no blame here,_ the kisses say. Steve feels like his heart is going to burst with the love Bucky is showing him. How could he have ever doubted him? This man who loves him so completely. Steve leans down the two inches to kiss him under the warm spray of water. The flesh and metal hands come up to cup Steve’s face, cradling it as Bucky kisses back—not taking, just giving. As if he’s saying _whatever you need, I'm here._

“I missed you so much,” Steve whispers. “Everything is worse when we’re apart.” Bucky presses their foreheads together, arms tight around Steve’s battered body.

“I know, baby. I'm glad you called.” Steve closes his eyes and absorbs Bucky’s presence, his words, his warmth, his strength. “I love you. Let’s go to bed.” Steve nods and turns the water off. He’s starting to feel more like himself so when Bucky holds the white fluffy towel out to him he snatches it and dries Bucky off first, pressing soft kisses to the warm skin of shoulders, hips, and thighs. He dries himself quickly and presses Bucky to the bathroom wall—crowding him, taking up his space—and kisses him slowly, deeply. He’s missed this. He’s missed the taste of his lover, the feel of skin on skin. “God,” Bucky breathes. “Keep kissin’ me like that and we’re not gonna make it to bed, baby.” Steve is hardening fast. Just the rasp in Bucky’s voice can get him going when they’ve been apart this long.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs, leading Bucky toward the bed. They stop halfway to kiss some more, hand exploring, but they eventually make it to the bed where Steve lays Bucky down gently and covers lean muscle with his own. “God, you're beautiful,” he whispers, kissing Bucky’s neck.

“Flattery can get you far, Rodgers,” Bucky says, smiling.

“Shut up, Barnes.” Bucky laughs and throws the lube at Steve’s head. Steve laughs, falling back into the easy rhythm that is his relationship with Bucky.

“If you don’t get your fingers in me right now—” But Steve’s already got two fingers inside him, cutting off his threat. Bucky’s metal hand is gripping Steve’s upper arm hard enough to bruise, but Steve doesn’t care. He needs this.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Steve snarks. Bucky glares at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” Steve smiles and bends to kiss him, adding another finger. He quickens his pace, swiftly taking Bucky apart. Steve watches his face carefully for any signs of pain—they haven’t been together like this for a month, he doesn’t want to hurt him—but all he sees is pleasure, so he removes his fingers and slicks his cock.

“Ready?” Steve asks.

“Steve, if you don’t get inside me right now, I'm literally going to kill you.” Steve freezes. _It should have been you._ “Steve?” Bucky asks, but it’s like hearing through water. Steve’s vision is unfocused, his body is shaking. “Fuck. Steve . . . I didn’t mean . . . no—” Bucky manoeuvres Steve onto the bed beside him, but Steve can barely feel the hands on his skin due to the ice he feels overtaking his body.

“Bucky . . .” Steve is terrified. Part of his brain knows what he’s feeling is irrational, but the other part is flinching every time Bucky touches him.

“Hey, Stevie. I'm right here. This is me, Steve. I love you, and I'm right here. _I'm_ real, not what’s going on in your head.” Steve nods, trying to yank himself out of his headspace. He knows Bucky’s right.

“Promise me,” Steve whispers. He needs to hear it, needs to be reassured. Bucky gets it.

 "I promise. I would never hurt you, Steve. Ever. I love you.” Steve’s eyes close and he melts into Bucky’s arms, shivering. “I’m so sorry, baby. C’mere.” Bucky holds him while he gets himself together, kissing his hair and his temple.

 “I love you,” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky pulls his face up to kiss him.

 “I love you, too.” The kiss doesn’t end there, but it’s less frantic now, less rushed. He kisses Bucky like he’s oxygen and Steve’s dying to breathe. Its slow and deep and passionate the way that Steve finds himself on his back with Bucky straddling him, the way Bucky sinks down slowly—taking him into that tight heat that has Steve seeing stars. The way Bucky murmurs things like _God_ and _fuck, Steve_ under his breath instead of loudly like normal. It means that this is different—this is something they haven’t experienced in a long time—this intimacy of going slowly and taking their time. Bucky leans down to kiss him and it’s filthy—tongue and teeth and suction—but Steve loves it. Loves how they can go from slow and tender to hot and hard.

 “Jesus, Buck,” Steve moans out when Bucky fucks himself harder on Steve’s cock. Bucky smirks down at him, but Steve flips them over, kissing that smirk from his face. He sets a quick pace knowing neither of them are going to last. It’s been too long, Steve needs this too much.

 "Fuck, Stevie. Right there, darlin’.” Steve falls apart hearing Bucky talk like that. “You gonna come, sugar?” Steve just kisses him—he can't talk, dizzy with the feeling of Bucky all around him. Steve angles his hips for Bucky’s prostate and thrusts a few times before finding it, but when he does, its magic. “Fuck!” Bucky cries out.

 “Jesus,” Steve moans, lost in Bucy.

“Oh god, Steve. Right there, baby. Yeah, like that.” He’s rambling now, but Steve doesn’t care. He loves it. “’M gonna come. Oh, god, ’m gonna come, Steve. God, fuck me harder.” Steve complies, thrusting harder, erratic with his own impending release. Bucky tenses everywhere and comes hard with a shout of Steve’s name that has to have woken someone up. Steve comes not long after, pressing his lips to Bucky’s metal shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the demons because _this_ is real. This is him and Bucky in love and together.

Bucky grabs the towel they keep on the nightstand and cleans them up enough that they can snuggle together comfortably. He strokes Steve’s hair as they come down, steady and consistent. Steve fights the wave of darkness that threatens the perfect moment. He can't let that darkness win. What he has with Bucky is special and important and Steve has to fight. He has to fight every day to keep it and he isn’t going to let go of it now. He’s never going to let go of it.

“I love you,” he tells Bucky for the millionth time. He needs Bucky to know that Steve’s struggling are his and while Bucky can help some, Bucky can't fix it. And that’s okay.

“I love you too, Stevie.” Steve smiles at the name—the name that used to annoy him to no end when he was small. “I’ll be right here. You can sleep if you want.” Steve basks in the light of Bucky’s reassurance. Bucky will be here if he has a nightmare. Steve will be here if Bucky has a nightmare. They may be fucked up, but they’re fucked up together.

Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Avengers. The Captain and the Sergeant. Best friends. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Lovers. Come back from the dead to find each other. Together. Right. Home.

Together.


End file.
